Wrong Turn
by KESwriter
Summary: Inspired by an "Elephant's Memory." At the age of twelve, Reid snapped and killed a student. Over twenty years later, he works as a mechanic and tries to keep his head down. The BAU seek him out as a copycat is poised to strike.
1. Chapter 1

I always go back to my other stories. This will be my most daring story yet. The location is semi-fictional on purpose.

Inspired by an "Elephant's Memory." At the age of twelve, Reid snapped and killed a student. Over twenty years later, he works as a mechanic and tries to keep his head down. The BAU seek him out as a copycat is poised to strike.

Wrong Turn

Prologue:

Only in Vegas would a kid wearing nothing but garbage bags attract no attention. Holding the bag around his middle, he opened the door to find his mother passed out on the couch as usual. He walked into his room and quickly put on some underwear, jeans, and, a t-shirt. He then crawled into bed buried his head into his pillow, and cried. Reid howled into his pillow until his voice went weak. Until all the pain and humiliation poured out.

"SPENCER!" his mother screamed, jolting him awake. "You're going to be late for school."

He turned away. "I don't want to go to school."

"How will you learn if you don't go to school?"

"But they're mean to me," he said.

"Don't let them get to you. You love school."

"I don't anymore," he said.

"Just go to school today honey, please," she said.

"Fine," he said getting up.

"Good boy," she said and closed the door.

Reid sighed. He'd go to school and keep going to school. Then when the time was right, he'd go to school ready, for revenge.

Chapter One:

Hotch took a step outside Las Vegas West High School. He just needed a moment to breath. Gideon followed him out.

"You okay?" He asked.

"There's just a lot of blood," he said gasping for breath.

"One shot to the stomach and then one to the head. He wanted the boy to suffer briefly before he killed him."

"What could have the kid done to him to deserve death?" Hotch asked. "What could he have done?"

"That is what we're here to find out," Gideon. "I know this only your second case and we don't usually analyze these situations, but the Director asked me personally to help out and I wanted you to join me."

"Why?" he asked. "I know nothing about interviewing kids, especially homicidal ones."

"I want you to learn," he said calmly. "We're going to encounter monsters of every form."

"I don't ever want to encounter a kid like Spencer Reid," Hotch declared. "Never."


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks for the support! My excuse for not writing: I have a swimming pool I can't usually get into after Labor Day. I have been in it at least six times.

Chapter Two:

"Guys," Prentiss said to Lewis, Alvez, Matt Simmons, and J.J. "We have a case."

They all got up from the bullpen and went to the conference room where Garcia, Rossi, and Prentiss were waiting.

"Your next destination is the city of sin and endlessly creepy murders: Las Vegas."

"Someone has been killing men in their early forties with a gunshot to the stomach and then one to the head," Rossi continued.

"Why is that particular signature ringing bells?" Lewis asked.

"Because it belongs to that of Spencer Reid," Rossi said.

"Oh my gosh," J.J. said. "The kid who killed another student with plans to kill more but was stopped by a teacher."

Rossi nodded. "I had just left the bureau when it happened. The teacher in who stopped the kid is also dead. He died of a heart attack three weeks ago and the death is now being ruled as suspicious."

"Has local PD interviewed Reid yet?" Alvez asked.

"They chose to wait for us but are monitoring his movements," Prentiss said. "Released from prison three years ago, he works as a mechanic at O'Neal's Auto Repair Shop. His parole officer says he keeps to himself, reports in regularly and maintains steady work."

"Aside from the teacher, how many other victims so far?" Simmons asked.

"Two," Garcia said.

"Are there any anniversary dates coming up?" Alvez asked.

Garcia shook her head. "None that I can find. The twenty-fifth anniversary isn't until next year."

"So, we could be looking for a copy cat," J.J. said. "But why this particular massacre?"

"It could be proximity," Rossi said. "But most likely, it has something to do with the initial massacre. We need to interview everyone associated with that incident ranging from reporters who covered it to students who might feel sympathy for Reid."

"We also have some special insight into the case," Prentiss said. "You can read it on the plane. Wheels up in twenty."

As J.J. left, she scrolled through the notes loaded into her tablet. They were the case notes of Jason Gideon and Aaron Hotchner.

…

October 5, 1993

Report by Aaron Hotchner

Interview Subject: Spencer Reid Age 12

Reid appears calm and composed. Is extremely cooperative and answers questions as though he prepared for them. His father William Reid, is less comfortable.

Interview begins at 10:00 AM. The following was transcribed Lesley Silva.

Hotchner: You are aware of your rights? You can have a lawyer present if you want.

Reid: Yes, I know my rights. I also know you are here to interview me to see why a person my age would commit premeditated murder.

Hotchner: Tell me why in your own words.

Reid: I was lured by a pretty girl to the football field where I was stripped naked and tied to a goal post. The person I murdered, Johnathan Croft had made fun of the size of my genitals, which are average for someone my age.

Hotchner: Is it true you were planning to kill more students before a teacher managed to restrain you?

Reid: I wanted John Croft dead. The other bullies were merely collateral damage.

Hotchner: What about the girl?

Reid: I believe she was being manipulated by John Croft into doing his dirty work. A deeper sense of chivalry in me also didn't believe in injuring women.

Hotchner: Where did you get the gun?

Reid: A neighbor two doors down has a vast gun collection, Mr. Wyatt Mills. It didn't take much to pick the lock to his back door, and then pull out a pistol I knew he wouldn't miss, as he favored his shotguns.

Hotchner: How did you learn to shoot?

Reid: I read books. I was prepared for the weight of the backlash. I knew how to steady the gun using both hands unlike what you see in the movies. I also knew how to brace my legs.

Hotchner: On a more personal note. You show remarkable intelligence. Why throw away a bright future to kill one bully?

Reid: You really haven't been listening to me, have you Agent Hotchner? Johnny Croft was a bigger psychopath than me. He would have done worse if given the chance. He had to be stopped from hurting others and it had to be me stop him.

Hotchner: Why not report him to an authority figure?

Reid: He is the quarterback of the undefeated Lions. No teacher who values their job would tattle on the golden boy. In case you might have forgotten, Agent Hotchner, high school is a caste system and even an exceptional student like me ranks barely above the slackers who contribute nothing to the reputation of the school.

Hotchner: I think that is all for now. Is there anything you'd like to add to your statement?

Reid: I have no regrets. I am glad Johnny Croft is dead.

Author's Note:

I have decided to keep Hotch in Witness Protection as I don't think any of these events would have been altered significantly as a result of Reid's absence.


	3. Chapter 3

Thanks so much for the support!

Chapter Three:

October 6, 1993

Concluding Thoughts:

By Jason Gideon

Spencer Reid's thought process contains elements that appear to be consistent with that of a psychopath. Upon further review though, these elements are more closely related to his high level of intelligence, with autistic characteristics such as a flat tone when describing emotional events. It is the opinion of this agent that Spencer Reid is not a psychopath but a young adolescent exposed to trauma both at home and in school as detailed in previous sections.

There is no question that the death of Johnathan Croft is a tragedy. His death will have a significant impact on those who knew him as well as society. But the impact on Spencer Reid should not be discounted either. While his actions are inexcusable, there is no question that he had the potential to accomplish phenomenal things. There is only hope that with time, and proper treatment, Spencer Reid will one day make a meaningful contribution to society.

J.J. finished reading the report on the plane and put her tablet down. Rossi glanced at her.

"Classic Gideon," he said. "Always looking for the good in people."

"Hotch always saw things in black and white whereas Gideon saw more shades of gray," she said.

"It's what made them work well as a team," he said.

Prentiss began to put things in her bag. "We need to hit the ground running with this one. J.J. and Simmons, I want you to interview the families of the victims, with a focus on finding any common ground between them. I'll start work on setting up the command center. Rossi and Alvez, I want you to pick up Spencer Reid for questioning. Be sure to take in a look of his surroundings while you're at it.

"Yes, Ma'am," Rossi said.

…

O'Neil's Auto Repair Shop was located just off the strip and the décor reflected it. There was a neon shamrock on the front and green trim throughout the exterior. Though not ideal, it was where a man like Spencer Reid could remain inconspicuous.

The found the owner, Edward "Eddy" O'Neil was looking over numbers in the vast reception area. He was a tall balding man, slightly overweight, wearing green plaid shirt over dark pants. There was a smile plastered on his face when he looked up.

"How can I help you gentleman?" he asked.

"We're looking for one of your mechanics," Rossi said showing his FBI credentials.

He nodded grimly. "I had a feeling you'd be showing up sooner rather than later. He's in the back-right corner of the shop working on the red Camaro."

"Thanks," Rossi said and they walked out of the reception area.

The first thing that surprised them was the length of his hair. It was cut short and close the scalp without the slightest hint of a wave compared to his first mug shot where it was falling off his shoulders.

Wearing denim overalls with a green shirt that revealed his large muscles, he was leaning over the engine with some sort of gauge.

"Nice car," Rossi said casually.

"I've seen nicer," he said flatly. "There over a thousand of these on the road and the cylinders of the engine were made of a type of metal that makes them rot out faster. The nineteen sixty-eight Camaro Z/28 convertible is another story. But I doubt you're here to talk cars, Agent Rossi."

Rossi looked mildly surprised.

"You know of me?"

"Someone by accident donated one of your books to the prison library. I read it before it could be confiscated. Your work with Jason Gideon was particularly interesting."

"Thank you," he said. "We'd like to bring you in for questioning revolving around a few recent incidents."

"The death of Roger Magnus and two men shot to death?" he asked.

"Correct," Rossi said.

"Do you mind if I go to the locker room to change? You or your associate can watch come in with me to make sure I don't escape."

Rossi and Alvez exchanged a look. Rossi nodded.

"Agent Alvez will stay in the room with you," he said.

"Okay," he said. "The lockers are that way."

"I'll meet you in the front," Rossi said.

They went in opposite directions. Rossi ran into O'Neil.

"Look I know my word doesn't count for much, but Spencer Reid is a good guy. He isn't involved in whatever you think he might be into."

"We just want to ask him a few questions," Rossi said.

"I know what he did was terrible, but he was just a kid back then. He's a grown man now and he's one of the best mechanics I have. He's even solved a few crimes."

"Crimes?" Rossi asked. "Like what?"

"A hit and run where he figured out it was one of our customers because of the way the windshield was fractured. He also noticed a guy brought in a car that was stolen based on the contents of the backseat. The guy is trying to do good. I can see it."

"I'll take that information into consideration, Mr. O'Neil. Thank you."

By then Reid and Alvez had appeared. He was dressed in beige pants and a blue dress shirt. For the first time, Rossi noticed his nose was slightly crooked, like it had been broken several years ago.

"Okay," he said. "I'm ready."


	4. Chapter 4

Thanks for the support!

Chapter Four:

"That boy should have never gotten parole," Alicia Magnus said. "He's behind the death of my husband, I just know it."

"What makes you say that?" J.J. asked.

"He wanted to kill more kids, and my husband stopped him," she said. "He is out for revenge."

"He's been out for nearly three years," J.J. said. "Why would he go after your husband now?"

"I don't know," she said impatiently. "That's for you to figure out, isn't it?"

J.J. stood up. "Thank you for your time Mrs. Magnus."

"Just catch the boy and put him back in jail," she said and left.

J.J. left and Prentiss approached her.

"What are your thoughts?" she asked.

J.J. shook her head. "There's a lot of pent-up resentment, but no proof that Spencer Reid was involved."

"I don't think Magnus died of natural causes but I don't think Reid was involved," Prentiss said. "Everything we know about him suggests he would have killed him in a less obvious way," Prentiss said.

"I agree," J.J. said.

Rossi and Alvez appeared with Spencer Reid. They had seen a recent mugshot of him but it was still hard to connect the photo of the boy with long hair to the young man with muscles bulging under his shirt. Rossi nodded to Prentiss as they went into the interrogation room.

Prentiss watched the interrogation while J.J. headed in the opposite direction to interview another family member.

"Just, so you are aware," Rossi said as he took a seat. "You are not under arrest though have the right to have an attorney present."

"I understand," Reid said. "I am a person of interest in this case by virtue of proximity to the case. Particularly, the death of Roger Magnus and while the police haven't released how the men were shot I'm guessing it involved one shot to the abdomen and one to the head. My signature."

"Do you always follow the news closely?" Alvez asked.

"I like to stay informed," he said simply.

Rossi pulled out a piece of paper.

"We need to know your whereabouts for the following times and dates."

He shook his head. "I have no verifiable alibi for any of these times. I was at home reading at these times or asleep for the first one."

"So, what do you like to read?" Rossi asked.

"A little bit of everything," he said with a shrug. "Mechanical engineering books, the history of the geography of Finland, and a biography of the Elisha Graves Otis, the inventor of the elevator break."

"That is quite a variety," Alvez said.

"I like to be informed about a variety of topics," he said.

"Do you carry an ill will toward Roger Magnus?" Rossi asked.

"No," Reid said. "In prison I made peace with the fact that Magnus was only doing his job in trying to protect the students while my goal was to eliminate those who were causing the most harm to the school."

"Do you regret killing Johnathan Croft?" Rossi asked.

"Every few years while I was in prison, profilers and other specialists would come in and try to get me to answer that question. The truth is, I don't know. I used to be certain it was the right thing to do. But as I have developed emotionally, I can where what I did was wrong but I still can't let go of the idea that what I did was right at the time."

"Thank you for your time Mr. Reid," Rossi said. "I'd advise you to stay in town."

"I have no plans of leaving," he said. "But can you answer me this: What happened to Jason Gideon? He used to visit me every few years in prison until about seven years ago. He then only sent eight letters with no return address. He promised to speak at my parole hearing but only sent a letter."

"He was murdered by a serial killer three years ago," Rossi said.

A look of sadness came across his face.

"I'm sorry to hear that," he said.

"That's all for now, Mr. Reid," Rossi said. "We'll have an officer escort you out."

"Thanks," he said and got up. He then left.

Rossi looked to Prentiss as he left the interrogation room.

"I couldn't get a clear read on him," she said.

"He was expecting us to come for him and had an answer for every question," Alvez said.

"Exactly," Rossi said. "But my instincts tell me he has nothing to do with all this personally. But someone wants to recreate these crimes either to honor or frame him."

"Let's check on what Simmons has been up to," Prentiss said.

"I'll be there in a minute," Rossi said.

He dialed up Garcia.

"This is your Oracle speaking, how can I help you?" she said.

"Can you take a few minutes and go into the deep archives?" he asked. "Look for a file on Spencer Reid by Jason Gideon and fax me copies of what you find."

"Sure thing," she said.

Rossi joined the Prentiss and Simmons to see what he'd been working on.

"I dug into, their personal lives from high school," he said. "Alex Trenton was the leading touch-down scorer on his football team. William Wren was an honor student part of the homecoming court all four years."

"Nerd, jock, the UNSUB's collecting high school stereotypes," Prentis said. "Who will be next?"

"The time between murder is forty-eight hours," Simmons said. "But I expect that to shrink with our presence here."

"Agreed," Prentiss said.

"Absolutely," Rossi said as his mind lingered on Spencer Reid. Gideon during the brief times he spoke with him over recent years never mentioned visiting him. He wondered what was hiding in those archives.


	5. Chapter 5

Thanks for the support!

Chapter Five:

December 4, 1993

Spencer Reid displays clear signs of sexual abuse during this visit. His eyes never stop moving and there a slight tremor to his whole body. Nonetheless, his tone is resolute and defensive.

Without any form of greeting he asks what I'm doing at Mayfield. I tell him I wanted to check up on him. He snorts and says he's just a lab rat to me and that I am only here to check on how he's adjusting to prison culture. I ask him how he is adjusting and he says he is surviving. He explains that he knew the risks when he pulled the trigger and prepared himself for prison life. I ask why he's shaking and he shuts down completely. He walks away and demands to leave.

December 5, 1993

Spencer Reid is surprised to see me yet also remains agitated. He demands to know why I "care" about him and I say it is because I don't want to see him suffer. He snorts again and says the whole point of prison is to suffer for the crime. I notice a lock of hair is missing from the left side of his head. I ask how it happened and he refuses to engage me. We sit in silence for five minutes. He watches me closely out of the corner of his eye. I have checked the visitor logs. His father nor any other relatives have come to visit him. I tell him I am not going to leave him alone and that while what he did was horrible I do not believe he is a horrible person. He laughs harshly and says I am delusional.

February 25, 1994

His head is completely shaved. Combined with his skinny physique, he looks almost emaciated. He no longer displays signs of sexual assault though. I ask how he is being treated and he says it doesn't matter and he asks why I am here. I tell him I was the one who sent him books on advanced calculus. He thanks me with a hint of annoyance. I feel as though I am breaking down the tough persona he is trying to build.

June 18, 1994

Spencer Reid asks if my colleagues know that I am visiting a school shooter. I tell him what happens between him and me is our business only. He points out that I am still visiting in the capacity of an agent and that I am probably filing reports. I don't deny this. He asks if I have any children and I tell him I have a son a little older than him. He says that explains a few things and sighs. He tells me that that he can't stop me from looking after him like a son but asks that I promise not to abandon him. I look into his brown eyes and promise on my life that I won't.

Rossi sighed. "Oh Gideon, the trouble you got into with your promises."

He put the thick file down and climbed into bed. The look of sadness on Spencer Reid's face filled his dreams.

…

"Joe Klein, age forty-two, one shot to the stomach and another to the head," Prentiss said. "Just like the others."

He was laying on his back in the kitchen.

"Agents," a detective called out.

They followed him to the garage where a Mercedes convertible was parked. A CSI appeared holding a receipt in an evidence bag. A shamrock was clearly visible.

"He visited the same auto shop Spencer Reid works at three days ago," he said.

"How did your CSI know to look for this?" Rossi asked.

"While you've been following patterns, we've been digging up on Reid," he said. "Magnus' daughter visited the shop several days before his death. The first victim's brother visited the day before and the second took his mother's car the same shop a week before his death. It made sense to check the glove box to see if this car had been worked on."

"Wait," Rossi said. "Don't you have eyes on him right now?"

"We all know how smart Spencer Reid is. This house is walking distance from his apartment complex. He could have snuck out in the middle of the night before my detectives were the wiser."

Rossi still wasn't convinced.

"Reid wanted to kill bullies, not honor students and from the looks of this guy," he said gesturing to the filthy car with poker chips in the backseat. "and slackers."

"We need to see how he fits the profile," Prentiss said.

"I want him brought in for further questioning," the detective said. "He's the main connection between all these victims."

Prentiss nodded. "Rossi, take Simmons and pick him up."

"Sure thing," he said.

…

He was working on an Aston Martin this time.

"I take it you've caught a break in the case," Reid said looking up. "Can I change again?"

"With Simmons present," Rossi said. "I'll see you in the front."

Rossi had reached the entrance when there was a sudden ruckus. Rossi went to the locker room.

"I swear I don't know how that got into my locker!" Reid was shouting.

Out of the locker spilled out some clothes along with a gun. The same kind of gun used in the murders.

He looked to Rossi desperately.

"I swear on Jason Gideon's grave, I had nothing to do with this."


	6. Chapter 6

Thanks for the support!

Chapter Six:

Reid immediately retained a lawyer. Ed O'Neal made a phone call for him and a Rebecca Young, a woman in her early forties with red, hair was by his side in the interrogation room. They were in deep discussion as Rossi watched them.

The detectives were positively jubilant. "Well that's one bastard off the streets," one of them said.

"He never should have been allowed out," another said.

Rossi really wished they would shut up.

He turned to Prentiss. "He doesn't fit the profile. Reid's goal was to go after and those who wronged him. None of these men did anything as terrible as what happened to him over twenty years ago."

"I know," Prentiss said. "Ballistics should be back in about an hour. We'll question him then."

"Are Alvez and Simmons looking into the surveillance footage of the shop?" he asked.

She shook her head. "It shorted out in areas such as the one near the locker room a few days ago."

Rossi swore. "Anyone could have planted that gun then."

"David," Prentiss said cautiously. "Are you getting a little too close to Reid? The police have a point. The number of rounds missing in the gun match the shots taken."

"Reid is too smart to get caught," Rossi said forcefully. "The guy has also been through Hell during juvie and prison. He wouldn't risk going back."

"What exactly did Gideon's reports show?" she asked.

"He had no support system, so Gideon became his."

"Be careful not to get too close to him though," Prentiss said.

"But nothing about this makes sense," Rossi said.

"I know," she said.

There was the sound of cheering. A detective came rushing through as he was patted on the back. He was holding a file and grinning from ear to ear.

"The gun matches perfectly," he said. "We've got our killer."

"I'll go in," Prentiss said.

"Mind if I join you?" a Detective Randal asked.

"Follow me," she said simply.

Rossi leaned in close to the window and watched. Reid's face fell upon seeing the look of delight on the detective's face.

"The gun we found in your locker is a match to the one used to kill Blake Desmond, Greg Cort, and Joseph Klein. What do you have to say for yourself?"

"Until it fell out of his locker, my client has never seen that gun before in his life," Young said.

"How does he propose it got there?" Randal asked.

"The locks are standard combination locks, anyone with the right skills can crack them."

"If he knows anything about the death of Roger Magnus, now would be a could time for him to speak up," Prentiss said.

"My client has nothing to do with any of these deaths," she said. "And it will be proven in court."

"Spencer Reid," Prentiss said. "You are under arrest. You have the right to remain silent…"

Rossi watched the man's eyes. They weren't so much filled with fear but a sense of despair. As though he was expecting life to find another way to tear him down.

…

Despite the Young's best arguments, Reid was remanded without bail. The team began to pack up as the case was over.

Rossi chose to watch. He had a horrible feeling that they had chosen the wrong man, but he had no way of proving it. Maybe he had also developed a soft spot for the guy as Prentiss had suggested.

J.J. approached him. "I hear you believe the police have the wrong man."

"But the evidence does not lie," Rossi said.

"It can be planted though," she said. "I agree with you. Spencer Reid seems too smart to have left the gun in his locker. His motives are loose at best. The killer is still out there."

"Do you have proof?" he asked.

"No," she said. "But I do have Emily's ear on this. We're staying in Vegas an extra night."

"I don't want another death to occur," he said.

"I don't either," she said. "But if the unsub is trying to pin this on Reid, he or she might have something else planned tonight."

"Thank you, J.J.," he said.

"You're in the majority here, Rossi," she said. "None of us actually believe he did it."

"Good to know."

…

November 5, 1994

I informed Spencer that I have arranged for him to take the GED in December. Spencer seems to appreciate this despite the weak thanks. I notice he is beginning to build up muscle tone. I know better than to ask why. He has a lot of questions about my work and seem genuinely fascinated by the idea of studying crimes for patterns. I know crime books aren't allowed but I wonder what would happen if someone were to accidentally donate one of David Rossi's books.

February 2, 1995

His GED scores ranked him among the highest achievers of that year. He takes little pleasure in hearing this though. I sent him books on quantum physics last month and he thanked me for them. He asks if I ever lost my cool and thought about breaking the rules. I admit that I have but I also told him I have to live with myself at the end of the day and there are certain things I just can't do. Reid tells me he still doesn't regret the death of Johnathan Croft. He acknowledges that he has a long road of 'suffering' ahead and is prepared to take it on.

June 11, 1995

He was in the infirmary when I checked in on him. Three ribs broken along with his right arm. The boys say he started it by calling them names. I ask him for the whole story and he says that his dad visited to say that he was having his mother committed and some of the other boys heard about it and called his mother crazy so he called them all names until they beat him to a bloody-

There was an urgent knocking on the door.

"David," Prentiss said.

Rossi put the files away and opened the door.

"There's been another murder," she said breathlessly. "Detective Randal was shot in the same way and there was a note written in blood."

"What did it say?" he asked.

"Try Again."


	7. Chapter 7

Thanks for the support!

Chapter Seven:

"Try Again," was spelled out in blood on the family room wall. Detective Carl Randal lived alone in a ranch-style home only miles from the precinct.

Rossi stared at the message written in blood.

"What does this tell you?" he asked as Simmons stepped next to him.

"That this is more personal than we thought," Simmons said.

"Against who? Spencer Reid or the police?"

"Reid," Simmons said. "The unsub wanted Reid in jail and then mock the police."

"Exactly," Rossi said.

Prentiss appeared. "His attorney just woke up a judge and is trying get him released."

"They're going to argue this might be a copy-cat," Simmons said.

"With this note," Rossi said. "Not a chance."

"We need to focus on Reid," Prentiss said. "Visitor logs, prison mates, everything."

"Let's get to it," Rossi said.

…

Over nearly twenty years, Jason Gideon had visited Reid fifty-three times. The FBI and other law enforcement agencies had visited him fourteen times. His father had visited him three times. He had no other visitors.

"It explains his attachment to Jason Gideon," Alvez said. "The was the father figure in his life."

"This is Gideon's last record" Rossi said and began to read:

"September 18, 2007

Reid said I looked tired today. I told him I felt tired. He asked how do I keep all these monsters I hunt compartmentalized. I tell him not all of them are monsters. He points out how long we've known each other now and he can tell something is off. I tell him I'm just tired. He suggests transferring to another department and I tell him this is the only thing I feel I am good at. He tells me about how often I have told him he could be something more. I look at him closely and notice how much he has grown. He is no longer a scared young adolescent, but a confident young man. Prison life has beaten much of the ambition out of him, but not entirely. I can honestly say I am proud of the man he has become. I don't know if, in this condition of self-doubt, I am of any use to him anymore. I promise I will keep in touch though to show I have not completely abandoned him."

"Reid had Gideon profiled pretty well," J.J. said. "He'd go off the reservation a few weeks later."

"That time was such a mess," Prentiss said. "We're all lucky to have careers after that."

"Agents!" a detective shouted. "We have a situation."

They all left the conference room to find Reid's attorney Rebeca Young with a bloody nose and rips in her clothes.

"They took him," she sobbed. "I just got him out and they took right from the back entrance we were using," she said.

"Calm down, Mrs. Young," Rossi said. "I need you to catch your breath and start to focus on details."

She shakily pulled out her phone. "They knocked me to the ground but I pulled out my phone. I caught the license and make of the car. Spencer struggled hard. He punched one in the nose hard and gave the other a black eye. They slammed him against the side of the van until he went limp. I hope he's alright."

Rossi took the phone. A CSI appeared and took it.

"A team?" Alvez said. "That's unusual."

"That's not a team," Rossi said. "Those were hired guns."

"Someone has something special planned for Spencer Reid," J.J.

"This has been about Spencer Reid from the beginning," Lewis said. "Four, possibly five men, were killed trying to make a statement to Reid."

"That is a lot of rage, but also a lot of planning too," Simmons said. "In order to get him sent to prison and then to murder the lead detective on the case."

"We've been tracking the movements of the adults who bullied Reid," Prentiss said. "Nothing is standing out. We need to make a wider net."

A detective approached them. "We have an APB out on the truck and thanks to your technical analyst, we've identified the men as Christopher Brinks and Bill White, both served time in jail for armed robbery in Reno and Carson City four years ago. And I already checked, they didn't serve any time with Spencer Reid."

"Who is the van registered to?" Prentiss asked.

"A Jacob Alexander, a carpet cleaner who reported his van stolen weeks earlier."

"Someone is pulling the strings in all of this," Rossi said. "We just have to figure out who it is."


	8. Chapter 8

Thanks for the support!

Chapter Eight:

It was Dustin Corbis, Alexa's older brother. After hours of combing databases, he became the likely suspect. Arrested for disorderly conduct and kicked out of engineering school for plagiarism in his early twenties, he started a metal-working business on the outskirts of town several years ago. When they contacted Alexa in Los Angeles, a former aspiring actress-turned hair stylist, she said she hadn't spoken with him in over ten years. They had falling out over after their parents divorced and she sided with her mother. The team could tell she was holding something back but disconnected before they could learn more.

With sirens blaring, the team arrived at the metal works shop. They scanned the area. J.J. opened a supplies closet and found the Brinks and White, both dead with single bullet to the head. An open locker revealed Reid's clothes. There were lights on in the main office, and the team slowly approached the door.

"It's open!" A voice shouted. "Come on in!"

They cautiously opened the door and found Corbis leaning back in the chair behind his desk with a smile on his face.

"I was wondering when you'd drop by," he said. "By my estimates you're a little late, but not by much."

"What did you do with Spencer Reid?" Rossi asked with his gun raised.

"You know, he did the world a favor by getting rid of Johnny Croft," he said. "But he should have picked a better first target. That's why I killed the teacher. Who knows what suffering he could have prevented if not for heroic Mr. Magnus."

"Enlighten us," Prentiss said with her gun raised.

"Lexie loved Johnny but after his death she fell for Corey Merope, who abused her relentlessly. She came up with every excuse imaginable, but a brother can see things others prefer to overlook. Mommy and daddy wanted her to marry the richy rich Meropes, but he died in horrible accident before that could happen."

"You're doing?" J.J. asked.

"Spencer Reid isn't the only who knows his way around a car," he said. "A simple snip snip to the break lines during the big game and no one knows who to blame."

"You've admitted to more murders and told your side of the story," Rossi said. "Now where is Spencer Reid?"

"I'm not telling," he said with his widest grin. "You'll just have to dig up my property to find him."

"He's lying," Alvez said. "He's not here, is he? You have grander end game in mind."

"He's a smart one," Corbis said. "Keep him around."

"Arrest him," Rossi said. "Charge him with murder and get him out of my sight."

For the first time his smile fell. "I thought we'd have a nice cat-and-mouse interaction. Or don't you want to beat it out of me?"

"You're not worth it and my team combined is more than smarter than you," he said.

"Things are going to go boom soon, if you don't find him," he said almost desperately. "You're lucky he's kept it together this long."

Rossi left the room. Prentiss followed him.

"What are you thinking?" she asked.

"This is all about enacting revenge," he said. "He has something far more elaborate set for Spencer Reid. Something that will cause Reid pain emotionally. Goal Posts!"

"Goal posts," Prentiss. "We found his clothes here. He's attached to a goal post somewhere."

"Somewhere residential," J.J. said. "He probably has a bomb attached to him."

"The public high school athletic field is set a distance from any residential area," Lewis said.

"Then parochial or colleges," Rossi said.

"Octavian matches that bill," Simmons said. "I've attend games there."

"Get eyes on Reid and let's get down there."

…

He looked like he was asleep. Tied naked to the goal post and covered in wires, his breathing was calm and steady.

"The average heart rate for an adult range from sixty to one hundred beats a minute," he said slowly and evenly. "For an athletic adult though, it can be as low as forty. If my heart rate goes beyond thirty-seven, the trigger switch will go off and the athletic fields will be blown ashes along with anything within ten feet of the structure."

"We'll get you out of this Mr. Reid," Rossi said. "I promise."

J.J. appeared. "The bomb squad said it'd take two hours find all the connections and sever them, can you hold on that long?" she asked.

"I can disassemble it in twenty minutes with the right tools," he said.

"Really?" she asked.

"It's not rocket science, though I've studied rocket science. It helped pass time in prison," he said in same calm, even tone.

"What do you need?" Prentiss asked.

"A frequency jammer, a heart rate monitor, a laptop, a standard tool kit, and someone with a steady set of hands I can direct from here," he said.

Prentiss turned to a uniformed officer. "Get him what he needs."

"Also, at the hospital," Rossi added. "Get him a pair of scrubs to put on when we get him down."

Reid took a deep, steadying breath.

"Thank you," he said.

"What can we do to keep you calm now?" Prentis asked.

"Anybody have chess on their phone?" he asked.

"I can download it," Lewis said pulled out her phone.

Lewis and Reid played five games of chess. He won every one of them easily.

She cheered when the officers arrived with the materials. "I didn't want to lose a sixth time."

"You got better with each game though," he said in the calm steady tone. "You're also the best competitor I've faced in a long time."

"That's a nice consolation," she said.

Alvez chose to do the actual work. Prentiss monitored things on the laptop. Everyone else stood around and watched as Reid gave instructions. The idea was to cut the signal just long enough to trick the program into thinking the heart monitor was what was keeping the low rate instead of Reid's own heart.

Reid closed his eyes when Alvez cut the wires to the monitor on his chest. For two seconds no one did anything.

"The new monitor is working!" Prentiss shouted.

Reid sighed. "Thank you."

"Thank you for coming up with the idea," Alvez said. "Now let's get you down."

They cut him down and he fell to who his knees. He slowly got up and Rossi gave him the scrubs.

"Thank you," he said and quickly put them on.

"You really should have that bump on your head looked at," Rossi said.

"I'm fine," he said. "I know what to look for if I develop after effects from a concussion."

"Okay," Rossi said.

"Let's get you to the station for a final statement," Prentiss said. "Then we'll give you a ride home."

"Thanks," he said.

Rossi watched as the young man left with Prentiss. He had nerves of steel and in the end saved the day. Something more had to be done.


	9. Chapter 9

Thanks for the support!

Chapter Nine:

Rossi found Reid working on a Ferrari when he arrived the next day.

"How can I help you, Agent Rossi?" he asked without looking up.

"I've been thinking about how I can help you," he said.

"I don't want money," he said.

"How about a different future?" he asked.

"I'm doing fine, right here," he said.

"Mr. Reid, you disabled a bomb without any formal training. You are phenomenally smart, and you could be doing so much more with that intellect."

"Why do you care?" he asked.

"I read Jason Gideon's reports. He cared about you, but in the end, abandoned you like so many of us. You didn't deserve that."

"Agent Rossi," he said. "I killed someone, in cold blood, with the intent to kill more people."

"You were also mentored by a federal agent from behind bars," Rossi said. "You didn't succumb to gang culture, you didn't kill anyone while in jail. You need to stop punishing yourself for what you did and decide what you want, going forward in life."

"I want to keep working and do what I do best," he said. "I really don't need your help with that."

"I disagree," he said. "Come to DC with me for a few days. Work on my cars if you want. Just come and see if you can find something better waiting for you just on the horizon."

"I genuinely appreciate the offer Agent Rossi," Reid said. "But no thanks. Have a good day."

Rossi sighed. He turned around and walked to the entrance.

"Help me with my nightmares."

Rossi turned around to see Reid wiping his hands on a rag.

"Gideon helped me with the nightmares when I was in prison, but I started having them again last night. I was so loud I woke up neighbors. I can't let that happen again."

"I'd be more than happy to help you with your nightmares, Mr. Reid," Rossi said.

"Great," he said. "In exchange, I consider the options you think I have."

"That sounds like a deal," he said.

"Just let me talk to Mr. O'Neil. I'll be right back."

"No problem," Rossi said.

He'd be willing to wait an eternity to see Spencer Reid get another chance at living life to the fullest.

THE END

Author's Note:

I didn't struggle with this ending (I struggled with finding time to write it) because I wanted something realistic in the sense that Reid isn't going to transform into a crimefighter overnight. The option is there, though unlikely. This is one of my "grittier" stories and I wanted it to have a grounded ending.

Thank you so much to my reviewers and the many people who favorited and followed this story. When a story like this becomes popular it gives me confidence to do something more creative in my next story. Thanks again!


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